Keep Vigil
by Kegster
Summary: "The first arms to hold Lin Beifong were not her mother's nor were they her father's. They were Aang's." A two shot exploration of Aang and Lin's relationship, from the first time he saw her to the last time she saw him. Old gaang featured and Linzin abound.
1. Chapter 1

The first arms to hold Lin Beifong were not her mother's nor were they her father's. They were Aang's. Well, technically she briefly passed through Katara and Yi-Lee's hands first, but in any subsequent retellings of the story on this point Aang was adamant; he was the first person to hold Lin Beifong.

Having to be outside the doors while such tortured cries came from inside was killing him. It made it even worse that he had to be outside the doors alone. Sokka was supposed to be here with him too but he wasn't scheduled to return from his trip to the Southern Water Tribe for another couple of days and the littlest Beifong had decided to make an early appearance. Zuko and Mai would visit, but only once Toph sent word that the child had arrived. That left Aang to pace alone outside of the occupied guest bedroom on Air Temple Island while Katara and Toph worked inside.

He worried about Toph. He'd been present to help Katara through the birth of all three of his children, a comforting presence, steadily by her side. The father of this child would not be present. Toph had made sure of that. His name had fallen from her lips only once when they were all at Ember Island together: throwing back cactus juice and remembering the good old days. Sokka, who typically went drink for drink with Toph, was quick to point out that her glass had remained uncharacteristically full. She'd laid out the truth for them that night, but then it was washed out like the tide against the beach, never to be spoken of again. She had already labeled the issue 'case closed' within her own heart and there was no other choice but for everyone to go along with it.

His name was Kanto. He was an officer in the Earth Kingdom's military and diplomacy dictated that he move through the social political circles of the Republic every now and then. Aang and the others had been only peripherally aware of his relationship with their favorite earth bender and not even Sokka, who was Toph's usual begrudging confidante, could tell them exactly when the relationship had begun or ended. It was difficult to discern who truly mattered in the comings and goings of Toph's discrete, romantic life. They had all grown accustomed to her fierce independence and did not want to have to face the barrage of earth that would undoubtedly follow any insinuation that someone had ascended to any level of importance in her life.

It hurt Aang somewhat to hear Toph's decision. He knew her well enough to suspect that her facetiousness towards the situation was simply a way to weasel out of risking rejection but had been trying very hard to respect her wishes. The earthbender had carved a permanent place for herself within their pack but was very much a lone wolfbat at heart. Still, he loved the charming ruffian turned chief so completely; he had a hard time imagining someone else wouldn't if given the chance. Aang ran into the man maybe two or three times after Toph's rapidly swelling abdomen had left her sequestered on an island of paperwork. With each encounter he felt an uncomfortable squirming in his stomach as the secrets he was privy to roiled there. He always offered the man a polite nod but the whole situation unsettled him. Toph had made it perfectly clear that she had no intention of telling, but Aang wondered frequently why Kanto didn't ask. He thought about his and Katara's life and how much they depended on each other. Even if Toph didn't think she wanted that sort of support, she and her child deserved it.

Another piercing cry resounded behind the doors followed by Katara's gentle yet confident mutterings. Aang leaned against the wall and sighed. He considered trying to meditate to help the time pass but the nervous twitching of his fingers would not allow it. It wasn't in his nature to be removed from matters involving his friends. The war had woven an unbreakable thread between them all. At a tender age they had routinely held each other's lives in their hands, known that life intimately, and protected it fiercely. How he longs to be able to protect Toph now.

He had been so excited when Toph had arrived at Air Temple Island before the sun that morning. After months of build up the newest addition would finally be here. Aang loved seeing all of their lives expanding to include new little ones and he spent more time than he cared to admit imagining the adventures of what Sokka affectionately deemed the Gang Babies, although Bumi and Izumi were now old enough to detest being referred to as "babies". He'd spent his life fighting for peace but it was only in recent years that he began to understand what peace truly meant to him. Peace felt like Bumi accidentally knocking him in the head with a boomerang while Sokka laughed uproariously. It sounded like Kya's shrieks of delight, her long, dark hair whipping around her face as he took her on a high sailing, loop turning, ride on Appa. It tasted like the joyous tears running down Katara's face when they realized Tenzin was an airbender. It smelled like the tiny piles of ash Izumi couldn't help but leave in her wake when she initially discovered her bending, to Zuko's absolute delight and Mai's chagrin. Peace looked like the wide smile on Toph's face, that showed the one dimple in the corner of her mouth, the first time Lin kicked. Despite the many credits to his friends' names he couldn't help but feel proudest of the little beings that called them Mom, Dad, Aunt, and Uncle.

He'd felt that same excitement when Toph had waddled into their home unannounced and cursing through clenched teeth. But a long and difficult birth had effectively sapped the excitement from the room, transforming his anticipation to apprehension with every passing hour. It had been morning when Toph's labor began and it was now well into the evening, his own children had been put to bed hours prior.

Suddenly, a markedly different cry permeated the room. Relief would have flooded him but the sound was immediately followed by Katara's voice calling out his name urgently.

He pushed into the room, not stopping to ready himself for what he was about to see.

Yi-Lee shoved a screaming bundle into his unprepared arms.

"Take her," was the acolyte's rushed explanation as she flew past him out of the room. But he could barely register the baby in his arms. His eyes zeroed in on Katara still working diligently at the end of the blood soaked bed.

"Toph! Toph, stay with me. Listen to my voice, okay?" She kept intoning sternly, hands moving furiously.

Toph had paled to a sickly gray hue and her sightless eyes drifted around the room hazily while fighting drooping eyelids.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked.

"She's losing too much blood," Katara's reply was clipped.

Aang noticed how shallow Toph's breathing had become and his own hitched in his throat. He slipped one hand into hers, holding tightly to her newborn with the other. His heart sank when her clammy fingers did nothing to move around his.

Yi-Lee re-entered the room with a fresh basin of water to replace the blood tinged one. Katara took the basin and set it down on the floor, handing off her rag to the acolyte with orders to keep the pressure. Katara guided the water, which took on an ethereal glow in her capable palms, out of the basin and ran it over Toph's abdomen, trying to staunch the internal bleeding.

"You can help her right? You can fix it?"

"I'm trying," she answered hastily but her focus had already turned back to Toph, "Keep listening to me Toph! Don't stop..."

"Katara-"

"Aang, please take her out," his wife's voice rose in a way he'd never heard before, "I need to focus…" she finished harshly.

Aang suddenly became aware that the bundle in his arms was wailing at decibels that would make Momo's ears twitch and fold down tightly against his head. The sound made his entire focus realign. He began to gently bounce the infant up and down in his arms ever so slightly as he headed for the door.

He paused in the doorway and looked back. Toph looked small and young in the large bed, as if she was barely older than the day he'd first seen her. He wanted to linger longer but he knew there was nothing he could do. Toph was in Katara's hands now and the daughter she'd begun calling Lin as her due date approached, was in his. With a deep breath he pushed through the door, sliding it closed behind him with his bending.

He leaned against the door briefly and tried to block out Katara's orders from inside. He looked down at the little, squalling, being in his arms. Her eyes had were open despite her crying and seemed to be locked on him with surprising focus. They were a startling shade of green, the color he imagined Toph's would be were they not covered by the milky film of blindness. Thick dark hair was matted to her tiny head and, even from his few encounters with the man, Aang could see the beginnings of Kanto's facial structure just beneath the newborn pudge. She was beautiful. The baby continued to whine uncomfortably, shaking him from his moment of reverie. She was still slick with blood and uterine fluid. He moved into the washroom and carefully laid Lin down on the countertop. Keeping one hand on her, he grabbed a soft cloth and soaked it in warm water. Tenderly, he wiped the mucus from the infant's chubby body, revealing the soft skin. Her high sobs began to wane into soft gurgling noises, apparently enjoying the feeling of warm water running over her. He picked Lin up and tucked her tightly against his chest, careful to support her neck and head, with all the expertise of a father of three. He barely rested his cheek against Lin's downy head, inhaling that distinctive newborn smell that took him back to the first time holding all three of his children.

Fear constricted his throat, what if Toph never got this moment with her daughter? What if she didn't get to experience the joy of holding new life in her hands? Even in his hours of nervous pacing he'd never imagined that this particular sort of tragedy could be possible. He'd worried for Lin, for the possibility of Toph ever being able to have more children. But he hadn't worried about Toph. She was the greatest earthbender in the world. Something as natural as childbirth couldn't possibly take her down.

He stroked Lin's soft curls. She'd calmed significantly even though he knew she must be hungry. Perhaps she'd be able to fall asleep for long enough to be able to wake to a meal from her mother. And if not, then… he pushed the thought from his mind. Katara was an amazing healer, she loved the rough around the edges earthbender, she wouldn't let her go.

Lin squirmed a bit.

"I got you, Uncle Aang's got you," he murmured into the baby's ear followed by soft, soothing noises.

She quieted once more.

It seemed like a cruel premonition now that only three weeks ago Toph had turned up with an attorney following behind her. It had caught Aang and Katara completely off guard. They hadn't been expecting Toph to come by and especially not with a stuffy looking gentleman in tow. Katara had graciously shown them all into Aang's study trying to conceal her confusion with the situation.

"This is my attorney Lu Xing," Toph had introduced politely, "he's here to finalize incidental paperwork for the assumption of parental rights." The sophisticated legalese rolled off Toph's tongue gracefully in one of the moments that made them remember their crude little friend had been raised amongst high society in the Earth Kingdom.

"Parental rights?" Aang had repeated. He wasn't surprised exactly, it just demonstrated a foresight he didn't generally associate with Toph. She threw herself into danger at every turn and Katara had often shook her head proclaiming that Toph Beifong must believe herself immortal.

"Yes," Toph said surely, "I know that in my job things can happen...and they can happen fast. Just in case, I… I don't want there to be room for anyone to question my wishes."

Katara and Aang nodded in understanding. Toph had long ago confided in them her concern that her parents might try to wrangle for custody of her child. Even then Aang doubted such a struggle would be profitable. Just her mentioning that she'd considered the possibility showed a burgeoning of protective maternal instincts that convinced him Toph would make a lovely mother. But if, spirits forbid, something did happen to Toph it would certainly give the Beifongs some leverage.

"I thought about it a lot," the earthbender continued graciously, "and I would really like the two of you to take care of Lin in the event of my death. If you'd be willing to…"

"Toph," Aang started, still taking in the news.

"You're two of my best friends and Katara's really bossy in a good way," Toph continued rambling in a way that sounded much more like the Toph they knew, "and I know I give you shit all the time but I think you're both great parents. And you know you've kinda got a brood going on anyway so I figure what's one more-"

"Toph, Toph," Katara repeated in rapid succession, getting their friend's attention, "we completely understand," she took Aang's hand, "we'd love to be Lin's guardians."

"Are you sure? There's no pressure if it's going to be a hassle."

"Toph, you're our family and Lin will be too. It won't be any hassle," Aang intoned, a wide smile on his face.

The earthbender let out a deep breath.

"Okay then."

"Okay then," Katara echoed.

"Lu Xing, could you…"

The man cleared his throat and passed Aang and his wife some well annotated paperwork, indicating the major points and pointing to all the places their signatures were needed.

They bent over the paperwork, signing their names with flourishes. They got it. It was why similar paperwork for them sat at the council hall bearing Zuko and Mai's signatures. It wasn't something any of them wanted to think about but it was something they'd had to take into consideration in the wake of their own growing family and spent many days mulling over what was best. Should their children be kept in Republic City? Maybe Kya should be with other water benders? So many things to consider. In the end they'd decided that if something should ever happen to them. Sokka and Toph, no one else, were to take the children to the Fire Nation as soon as possible.

Lin had fallen asleep. He could feel the even, little puffs of moist breath against his neck. He moved to the nursery where Tenzin, just a couple months past a year old, still slept in the large cradle suspended from the support beams running across the room's ceiling. Slowly, he eased Lin Beifong into the cradle as well, laying her tiny form down next to his sleeping son. His arms now free, he sank into the nearby rocking chair. He felt emotionally exhausted on this peaceful night. Outside the window, the moon shone bright and full and a warm breeze made the flowering tree branches dance. He raised his hand and released short wisps of air from his palm, causing the cradle to sway dreamily and tried not to think about whether it was good or bad that Katara had not sought him out yet. It'd been an hour. Surely whatever was going to happen would've presented itself by now. She was either stabilized or…

"Dad, where's Mom?" A small voice asked from the doorway.

"Bumi," Aan turned to face his oldest son, "she's still working."

"Still? Is everything okay?"

"I hope so," Aang replied, trying to keep his voice light.

The little boy made his way into the room, his hair stuck out at wild angles and he rubbed at his eyes with a stretched out pajama sleeve. Aang stood and hugged his little boy tightly, feeling so grateful that his family was healthy and whole.

Bumi accepted the hug but then peered around his robes at the cradle.

"Is that the new baby? Can I see her?"  
>"Yes, be careful though. She's sleeping."<p>

Bumi approached the cradle and looked in.

"She's pulling on Tenzin," he laughed a little.

He was right. The two looked like a pair of hibernating squirrel chameleons. Tenzin had instinctively curled around the smaller child in his sleep and Lin had a fistful of his pajamas clenched in her tiny hand.

"She doesn't look very much like Aunt Toph."

They both looked at the child's elongated face, more sloping nose, and delicate lips.

"I think she probably looks more like her dad," Aang answered.

"Where is her dad? Is he going to come see her?" Bumi asked with honest inquisitiveness. Aang had been waiting for this to come up. At ten Bumi was old enough to be curious about such things.

"I don't think so Bumi," Aang replied a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Why not?"

"Sometimes things don't always work out between moms and dads. and when that happens sometimes the mom or dad has to do things on their own," Aang examined Bumi's face, trying to gage his understanding.

"Oh, well I think she's going to be all right anyway," Bumi responded assuredly.

"Is that so?" Aang asked already smiling at his son's optimistic attitude.

"Yeah, Aunt Toph can do anything a dad can do," Bumi shot back matter of factly. Aang had to laugh at that but tried to muffle it so as not to wake Tenzin and Lin.

"That's very true Bum."

"And besides Aunt Toph won't have to do things on her own anyway because she's got a whole family to help her."

"You're right, we'll do everything we can to help."

"I know, Aunt Toph says you guys are nosy."

A shudder ran through Aang knowing the feisty woman who pretended to abhor their involvement in her life might take her last breath here in his home. He's not sure it would ever feel the same again if that happened.

"She's going to be all right Dad," Bumi said, turning his bright eyes on his father.

Aang wasn't sure if he meant Toph or Lin, but either way he appreciated it. Bumi grinned up at him with the lopsided smile he recognized as his own and couldn't help but hug him again.

Bumi went back to bed not long after and Aang went back to waiting. Every now and then Lin would start to sputter again and he'd lift her from the cradle to pace the floor, rocking her in his arms. The night slipped by while he and Lin kept vigil for Toph and it felt like both an impossible task and an incredible honor. The first rays of light were just beginning to peek over the bay when Yi-Lee came to retrieve him.

His heart stopped hearing her approach but when he turned to face her she was smiling.

"She's awake."

When he entered the room Katara was sitting at Toph's side and he was glad Toph couldn't see the shock on his face when he noticed that she was letting his wife hold one of her hands. There was still an unnatural pallor to her skin but she was awake and immediately aware of him having entered the room.

"Sweetie, come on in," Katara brightened seeing him. She looked just as exhausted as Toph. Deep, purple half moons lay underneath her eyes and sweat had erased any sort of style her hair had previously held.

"How do you feel?" Aang asked Toph good naturedly.

"Like shit, now would you give me my baby," her voice was hoarse but just as fiery as ever.

He approached the bed and slid Lin into Toph's waiting arms which had since released Katara's hand.

"Toph, meet your daughter."

She cradled Lin in one arm, and ran her feather light fingers over the infant's tiny face.

"She's beautiful."

"She really is," Katara agreed as he moved to sit in the chair next to her's. Katara leaned into him and sighed happily as his arm came up to encircle her shoulders. He felt the tension drain out of her and he rested his head against hers, depositing a kiss into her hair. They both breathed a sigh of relief. They both watched their brash friend for a moment. She was totally enraptured by the beautiful child she'd created. Holding her hands, tracing her tiny ears, inhaling the smell of her new skin.

"You did good, Toph." Aang said so quietly he wasn't sure Toph had heard him.

Their family was whole still. Lin, now an inseparable part of it. Years later he'd still think about that night; for the first five hours of Lin's life, he'd held Toph's heart in his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

It was as if no one in the room was breathing, they were afraid it might steal his last breath from him. The silence felt perpetual and omnipresent, suspending all of them in its stagnation as they waited to be beckoned to his side. Any small cough or scraping of chair legs forced their hearts forward two beats.

Aang was dying. Nobody wanted to say it out loud. Nobody wanted to believe that the Avatar, barely entering his sixtieth year, could already be slipping away. But as his rapidly failing health forced him into bed rest they realized they'd been fools to forget he was actually a hundred and sixty. He'd spent a hundred years in a state removed from time, protected from its glances and shielded from its blows. But now time had come at him with a vengeance. It crashed against him the way the powerful tides of the sea smashed against the shore, shattering glass and weathering stones. Time left him similarly battered. In a period of a few months he seemed to age decades and their hearts bled to watch the deterioration of the once vibrant man.

The end was approaching, they could all feel it, and even Katara's masterful healing could no longer slow its advance. All that was left to do was wait.

Kya sniffed beside her and the small noise startled Lin from her thoughts. She reached into the pocket of her dark green tunic and passed a handkerchief to the woman she'd always thought of as an older sister.

Kya accepted the offering gratefully, wiping at her nose with the handkerchief.

"It's okay Kya," Lin said quietly, trying to offer words of comfort that she knew were empty. Their father was dying, nothing was okay. But Lin had never been good at comforting people and it was the only thing she could think of to say.

"I… I wish I'd come home more," the typically easy going waterbender exclaimed unprompted, a new stream of tears running down her face. Lin had been a detective with the Republic City police for years now and she recognized the look on Kya's face plainly. It was the look that darkened the features of suspects in the interrogation room as the guilt gnawed at their carefully constructed barriers until the confession finally burst forth. Lin didn't know what to say to that. Kya had left on a mission to find herself when they were all much younger than they were now and she'd spent those years drifting about the world rudderless and carefree. She breezed in and out of Republic City only on occasion and only en route to her next, great destination. Her parents didn't begrudge her any of it and Aang had frequently joked that while she was a waterbender she had the wandering heart of an air nomad. But it didn't change the fact that she'd been largely absent from their lives for years, save when it suited her.

Lin reached up and placed her hand on Kya's shoulder giving it a small squeeze. She looked over at Katara, hoping she might have some words for her daughter but she was in a world of her own. Her hands clasped between her brother's. Aunt Mai sat quietly to her other side. Lin's own mother stood leaning stoically against the wall, her arms crossed and lips tightly pursed. Uncle Zuko was in the kitchen preparing another round of calming Jasmine tea for everybody.

They had all flowed onto Air Temple Island, sensing their last opportunity to say good bye. Lin was glad that they had all come back to be with Aang one last time but the influx of visitors also made her anxious. It made it so much more real. She wished Tenzin was still sitting by her side. He'd left an hour ago, having already been called in by Aang, to meditate. She didn't want him to leave even for a second but she knew that Tenzin was a creature of habit and maintaining his little rituals would be the only thing to keep him sane as he prepared to have a chunk of his life stolen from him. It made her skin crawl to think of what Tenzin would be losing. It transcended the personal loss of his father and also existed on a much grander scale of losing the only other person in this world like him. She knew Tenzin would wake up any morning now and have to bear the full weight of being the last airbender. Her relationship with Tenzin made her complicit in this weight and gave her just enough understanding to know that no one would truly be able to understand. It made her feel a little guilty for the depth of her own sorrow. How could her misery over the loss of a father figure compare to his loss of the one person in this world who knew what it meant to be an airbender? But Lin supposed everyone in this room was about to experience a unique and deeply personal loss. Who was she to appraise pain?

Bumi emerged from behind the doors that had been tightly closed. He was still wearing his United Forces uniform, though it was now rumpled looking having gone unpressed.

"Lin," she snapped to attention hearing her name, "he wants to see you," Bumi informed her.

Lin stood carefully and moved towards the doors, Bumi gave her a little pat on the back before holding the door open to her. Lin looked back once at the collection of people who had gathered to witness Aang's nearing release from this world, took a deep breath, and stepped through the threshold.

The room was dark, all the lanterns had been turned down since Aang mentioned the light hurt his eyes. The smell of sickness clung to the room's linens, the air was thick and unmoving which she imagined was most unbearable for the airbender. She moved to the window and opened it. Aang raised an arm and delicately bent a fresh breeze into the stale room.

"Thank you," he told her in a voice that now had the smallest hint of a wheeze to it.

"I wouldn't be able to stand how stuffy it is in here; I can't imagine how you feel," Lin responded.

"It's not so bad," he replied with his characteristic cheerful cadence.

"Do you need more water?" Lin asked, already pouring Aang a glass from the pitcher of cool liquid that sat atop the room's bureau. To Lin Beifong, love was action not words. Emotional phrases often got caught in her throat but she could always do things for the people she loved. It centered her. Had she and Tenzin not grown up together she imagined it would be a sore spot in their relationship. Tenzin told her several times a day how much he loved her while she reciprocated with uncomplicated actions like playful punches or bringing him his cup of tea just as he finished his morning meditation. But years together had taught them the intricacies of the other's habits and they knew neither's lacked feeling no matter how different the expression.

"I'm good, thank you," Aang said, nodding towards the glass in her hand.

"Well, I'm going to put it here just in case you change your mind," Lin said stubbornly, setting the glass on the bedside table, making sure it was in his reach.

She began straightening Aang's blankets, determined to keep her hands busy so she wouldn't have to take in Aang's worsening appearance all at once.

"Are you comfortable? I can get another blan-"

"Lin, Lin," he said pausing her bustling, "I'm fine...please just sit down," he invited her quietly.

Lin took a deep breath and resolutely plopped herself into the chair by his bedside, giving the man who'd been like a father to her the smallest of smiles.

"You were born in this room, you know," Aang told her, his eyes wandered around in a haze of memory.

"I know."

She'd heard the story several times from both Uncle Aang and her mother. Aang would always tell it with reverence. Highlighting the responsibility and honor he'd felt holding her in his arms while her mother fought for her life. Her mother would basically hit the points that Lin was a little shit who woke her up early but then took her sweet time crowning, that everyone was exaggerating about her near death and she just needed the extra rest after being in labor for 'a million years practically'… that was about it.

"You were so little then," he smiled.

Lin smiled back, wider this time. She'd never known who her father was. She'd asked her mother about it til her throat was raspy when she was a child. She had received a variety of responses over the years ranging from, 'Lin, it's really complicated' to 'that rock over there'. She'd eventually given up on the idea that her mother would ever tell her anything. Her Uncle Aang became the closest thing to a father she could imagine. Lin didn't like to admit this sort of thing out loud but she honestly felt a special bond with Aang had been forged the night she was born. Long before her relationship with Tenzin had placed her solidly in the family unit Aang had been extending the invitation. She was always welcome on the island and as a child her mother's busy work schedule meant there was frequently a place set for her at the Avatar family's table. When the struggle for peace took Aang far away he always returned with some sort of trinket for her the same as his own children. She could count on Uncle Aang to cheer her on, or listen to her complain, or make a really embarrassing toast at the really embarrassing engagement party Katara had thrown her and Tenzin. Those moments made her feel like she was a part of something special, like the circle of people who cared about her only rippled out and got wider beyond her small, broken, nuclear unit. Lin waded through her memories, discouraged to see that Aang's failing health was draining some of the color from them.

Aang cleared his throat and coughed a few times. She didn't like the rattling sound it made in his chest, that couldn't be good.

"Tenzin told me that you're talking about children again," Aang revealed slowly, watching her face for reaction.

Lin was caught completely off guard by Aang's straightforward announcement. They had only been talking. Tenzin shouldn't have brought this up. Her brow furrowed against her will as she let out something like a hiss from between her teeth.

"What part of 'say nothing' doesn't he understand?" Lin implored candidly, having no need to censor her crass manner in front of Aang.

"You know Ten," he supplied, "when he's hiding something his eyes get all big and do that shifty thing."

"I hate that shifty thing," Lin muttered mostly to herself.

"So did Katara," Aang chortled, a knowing glint in his eye.

Lin raised an eyebrow but Aang didn't stop smirking. Like father like son. Aang had practically invented the shifty thing.

Lin sighed.

"We haven't made any decisions yet," Lin explained quickly as if getting the words out would give her some distance from their implications, "We're just talking because…" Lin broke off and she watched Aang swallow hard.

They both heard the words she didn't say as clearly as if she'd shouted them.

_...because you're dying..._

They stayed silent for a moment. She hadn't meant for anybody to know yet, especially not Aang.

She could conjure the night clearly in her mind. They'd been lying in bed. Tenzin loved sleeping with the windows open but the night air was still chilly this time of year. Clad in only a thin night shirt, the icy winds whispering against her bare skin gave her goose bumps. Tenzin had his elbow resting on his pillow and his hand propping up his head. His face was a bundle of earnest hope.

"Ten, I don't know. There's too much going on for me to even think about it clearly," she had groaned.

They'd been circling around this discussion for years now, both afraid to approach it directly. But everyday that Aang's skin grew more sallow and his breathing more labored they both felt the marked rise in urgency. It was a conversation they needed to have but she wasn't sure she was ready for it.

"I don't think there ever won't be a lot going on, Lin," he'd mused, winding a strand of her black hair through his graceful fingers.

"Maybe not," she whispered non committally.

"Just tell me Lin, are you ever going to want kids," he beseeched her. She shifted her hand to prop her own head up as well, bringing her eyes level with her fiancee's.

"I want you," she evaded his question with the simple truth, breaking their eye contact to run her mouth over the line of his jaw.

"And I want kids," he shot back, not allowing her glittering eyes and delicate lips to derail him.

She'd flopped onto her back, defeated, and stared at the ceiling, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What if they hate me," she whispered into the nothingness above her.

"Who?" Tenzin asked, not following her train of thought.

"Our kids," she'd continued in a rare display of vulnerability. Rejection was a sensation she was all too familiar with.

"How could they?" Tenzin asked, brushing wisps of hair away from her face but she still didn't turn to look at him again.

"I don't know how to be a mom, Tenzin. You don't understand. You had this great family and I…" Lin's voice had caught in her throat. She stopped and blinked rapidly in succession to clear the moisture that was building at the edges of her eyes. She swallowed and started again, "I had Toph," Lin finished lamely, not knowing how to put into words years of frustration with her mother.

"Lin, your mom loves you," he'd stressed, grabbing one of her hands and bringing her fingers to his lips.

"I know she loves me but… I'm not the life she would've chosen for herself," she confided reluctantly. She didn't mention that she didn't want her own children to grow up feeling like they were the life she adapted to not the one she'd dreamed of, the way she had.

"Being the last airbender isn't the life I would've chosen for myself. But it's the one I have. There's responsibilities that I-"

"Well, I'm in this too Tenzin," she argued, trying to hold her voice steady, "Just say it, you need airbenders."

"That's not the only reason I want to have kids with you," he reassured.

"But it's one of the reasons," she retorted, pulling her hand out of his grasp. She wasn't trying to be difficult but she couldn't put to words all the jumbled thoughts that ran through her head.

Tenzin sat upright suddenly, pulling her up with him. He grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"Lin Beifong, I want to have kids with you because I love you," he declared, "I love you with everything I am. You're my family," he continued, softer now.

A lifetime spent together had swam behind her eyes. Sometimes she could hardly believe how lucky she was to have known the man who could look straight into her soul her entire life. She rested her head against his chest.

"I love you too," she returned, running her fingers along the blue tattoo that ran up his arm, "I'm serious about what's going on right now though. With your dad, I'm- I'm not sure either of us are in a place to be making serious decisions right now."

"No, no you're right," Tenzin said, sorrow arresting his expression.

"How about we get through this and then we'll talk about kids seriously, we can talk all day if you want, until we can come to a decision," she offered.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

That was two weeks ago and she still didn't know how the inevitable conversation was going to go. She bristled with annoyance at Tenzin. The continuation of airbenders was important to Aang; it wasn't right to get his hopes up for something that may not happen.

Aang reached for her hand and she allowed him to wrap his fingers around hers. His skin had grown so thin, like a delicate sheet of rice parchment. She could see the labyrinth of his veins twisting just beneath the surface radiating blue tinge throughout his complexion. She was afraid to hold his hand too hard in her own calloused grasp. In a way Lin had always felt like that. Like everything in her life was dusted with gunpowder and she perpetually carried a match in her hand. If she slipped up once, she could blow everything good in her life into so many pieces it would never come together again. She tried not to blame her mother for everything but in this way she couldn't help it. Toph had created a world for her that felt tenuous and splintered rather than whole and secure. Lin wished she could say it was in spite of her mother's best efforts but she didn't think that was true. Toph simply didn't notice that the utter lack of convention she found so liberating shackled her mindful daughter to her worst insecurities. Now Lin was always left wondering how close she was to dropping that match and incinerating her world.

_Would Mom even notice me if I wasn't so good at my job? What if I messed up, badly, would she still tell people I was her daughter? Would Aang and Katara treat me the same if I wasn't engaged to Tenzin? Is it even possible for me to be a good mother? Will Tenzin still love me if I can't give him airbenders?_

A small shudder ran through her just thinking those thoughts and Aang looked at her with concern.

"Lin, I need to tell you something," he said weightily, "apologize really," he added.

"Aang what're you-"

"You're very dutiful, Lin."

Lin Beifong simply nodded unsure what direction the man's mind was headed.

"You're dutiful and it makes you very good at your job."

"Thank you," she intoned, still confused. She'd be disappointed if all the man she'd grown up admiring so much had to say to her was that she was a good cop.

"Most people would say that it will also make you a lovely wife and mother and I'm inclined to agree with them."

Absently, Lin reached up with her empty hand to finger the betrothal necklace tied around her throat. She was unaccustomed to how heavy it felt around her neck. Tenzin had given it to her when they'd gotten engaged but she rarely wore it. Jewelry was not allowed to be worn with the police uniform that she donned the majority of the time and she tended to forget to put it on when she had the day off. But she knew how happy it made Tenzin and Aang to see it strung around her neck so she'd been putting more effort than usual into remembering in light of the current situation.

"But I'm not sure that dutifulness will make you happy," Aang said seriously.

Lin's head snapped up, caught off guard by his words.

"Aang, what're you talking about? I am happy," she insisted.

"Are you?" He implored.

"Yes," her voice faltered so she repeated herself, with more conviction, "yes!"

"I know all you kids were born into a tremendous amount of pressure just because of who you are and I'm so sorry you've had to live with that."

"Don't be," she started talking over him.

"And I know it's partially my fault because I've wanted you for Tenzin ever since your mom told me that she could feel the two of your hearts running a mile a minute whenever you were anywhere near each other," Aang confessed shakily.

"Aang, there's nothing to be faulted for-"

"I know you Lin, I know you," his fingers that had grown bony and rickety, trembled around hers, "And I also know I might not be around much longer which is why I need to you to look me in the eye and tell me that you're going to be happy," he pleaded.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she hesitated, unable to take the way Aang's sunken eyes were boring into her, "I, I…"

Finally she couldn't take it anymore, pent up stress was wringing her insides. She dropped her head into her hands.

"It's just so much," her voice came out small, holding none if its usual authoritative tone.

"I know, I know it is," he comforted her.

"It's like I can never catch my breath, Aang. It's always something. All these people talking at me all the time: 'am I ready to be chief', "can I live up to the Beifong name', 'when will I marry the avatar's son", 'will I give him children' and I'm just… suffocating in the noise," Lin shuddered, feeling as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest. The tears she'd been intent on holding in finally spilled out and she wiped at them furiously, angered by her display of weakness.

"You have a lot on your shoulders and I realize now that your relationship with Tenzin puts more pressure on you than is fair," he said empathetically.

"Nothing's ever fair," she responded bitterly. It was a lesson she had a feeling life would never stop teaching her.

"Lin, when you and Tenzin have that conversation about kids, promise me you'll leave the future of airbenders out of it," Aang requested with resignation.

"I can't leave that out of the conversation. It's a…" she tried to put a name to the enormity of what her and Tenzin meant to the future of an entire nation but couldn't,"...a thing. A really big thing!"

"I know it is, but promise me you'll figure out what you need before you worry about anything else."

"That doesn't sound like very avatary advice," Lin mumbled.

"It's not. I love you like my own Lin and that has nothing to do with your relationship with Tenzin. I hope you know that."

Lin only nodded scared to rattle loose the lump building in her throat.

"You're part of this family," Aang continued sagely, "no one expects you to compromise what you want to make Tenzin or any of us happy. We'll understand if things need to change," he took her hand again and squeezed it tightly.

Lin looked at him, hardly believing what he was saying. Aang had always been perceptive but this was beyond anything Lin had expected for his parting words to her. She'd always known Tenzin wanted a family, she hadn't meant to lead him on. She'd honestly thought that eventually her love for him would culminate into the desire for children and maybe it still would. But it'd been over a decade since the thought first came to her. And while her love for Tenzin only grew stronger such a desire still hadn't come to fruition. How long had Aang sensed that the idea of motherhood filled her with anxiety and it made her absolutely sick to think that the price she may have to pay in exchange for relief was her relationship with Tenzin? How had he known that this ambivalent struggle was tearing her apart.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Lin?"

She realized she still hadn't said anything.

"I think you're letting me off the hook," she ventured.

He shook his head, "I don't want you to live your life feeling like you're on a hook."

"Aang, I love him so much," she blurted out in an uncharacteristic display of raw emotion, grasping a handful of the bed's linens. He was one of the biggest constants in her life...she didn't want to lose him.

"He loves you too, which is why I know you'll do what's best for each other," Aang finished optimistically.

"Thank you," Lin stood and embraced the man who'd helped guide her through so much of life, "Thank you for everything, Aang."

The night she was born, in this very room, Aang had sworn he'd look after her. And he'd never stopped.

They all kept vigil for the avatar that night. Eventually they'd all moved to stand in the small room. Aang died early that morning surrounded by the people who loved him. It wasn't silent and peaceful the way people liked to imagine a death of old age. In fact it was awful. His chest just started heaving, and his mouth opened to release moist, strangled, gasps.

"It's okay Sweetie, you can let go," Katara had murmured stroking his head, tears dropping from her eyes onto his face, "just let go."

Then it was as if his ribcage just caved in...and he was gone.

Tenzin clutched her arm so tightly he left bruises on the sensitive skin of her inner arm.

Mere days later, they put on their funeral whites and laid him to rest on his memorial island. Plans were in place to construct a statue. But for the moment the island was as barren as their hearts. Tenzin walked ahead of her, guiding his mother with Kya and Bumi. She hung back and took in the somber scene. They procession looked familiar yet so different under the moon's light. Lin saw another side to her mother when she realized large tears were running silently from Toph's sightless eyes.

They all had a lit lantern in their hands and simultaneously let them slip from their grasp. A powerful gust of wind immediately caught them and carried them high into the sparkling night sky. The sweet spring breeze blew through their billowing mourning robes; it was as if Aang's spirit was bidding them all goodbye. Lin watched his wife sink to her knees, face turned toward the heavens. Slowly her kids faded back and the old gang stepped forward. Sokka was the first to crouch down, an arm around his sister. Toph and Zuko followed quickly. Lin watched Katara rest her head on her own mother's shoulder, when Toph sat down next to her and Zuko settled in next to Toph. He reached across the petite earthbender's lap to hold Katara's hand. They all sat in complete silence as they watched the lanterns dance with reverie. Lin swore she could see the thin glittering ties that bound them all together extending from their hearts up to those departing lanterns like ethereal kites. The first of their unbreakable clan was gone.

Lin Beifong felt Tenzin's hands find her shoulders and she leaned back into him. They relaxed into their mutual comfort of each other.

"I can't believe he's gone," he whispered.

Aang was gone but the things he'd taught her were not. He'd given her an incredible gift. Lin had always had a hard time trusting her own decisions when it came to matters of the heart. But Aang knew her heart and his final wish was for her to trust it no matter what change would have to come from it...He'd taken the match from her hand.

A week later, Lin knocked on the door to Tenzin's meditation room. She stepped inside and took a deep breath.

**"****Tenzin, I'm ready to talk…" **


End file.
